Anthem of the Angels
by MMhealey11
Summary: The Winchesters are quite lost without their angels, and when they disappear for what they figure is forever, how do they handle it? How CAN they handle it? Dean is in a pawn in a matchmaking game and Sam is just along for the ride. -Sabriel and Destiel-
1. Chapter 1: Pilot

The flashes began violently. First, Castiel's face above mine, staring into my eyes. His eyes are always that perfect ocean-bitch-slap color. The second, Cas was bloody, on the ground screaming in pain. Third, I saw his coat and tie floating around in black water, kinda like leviathan goop. And finally I saw him carrying me to my bed, tucking me under the covers, lightly placing his hand on my cheek, then leaning over to pack a kiss on my forehead.

None of those things have happened, and I hope that they don't. Well, only two things. I don't want to see my angel all bloody and scream-y. Nor do I want his little coat and tie floating in leviathan shit-goop. I don't mind the other two, but I'd never admit that to Sammy, let alone Cas. Not if I could anyway.

We don't really know what happened to him, he just stopped coming around. Not like he just decided to get up and leave, his visits gradually lessened and shortened over a couple of months. Which sucks.

To say the least, I miss the guy like Hell. _Never know what you've got until its gone!_ I'd have to say that the clichéd phrase is an understatement. Ever since the flashes of him started its been hitting me even harder, _what if I never see my little angel again? What if I can never tousle his dark, glorious hair, ever again? What if he's in trouble? What if he's dead? What if he doesn't care about us anymore? About me? _

Sam and I think that the bosses upstairs are just coming to realize that Cas is -or was- "becoming too attached with us". Which isn't a bad guess, because the guy really _was_ attaching himself to us, not that we minded. He just really liked spending time with us. Not that I'd blame him, it's hard not to love me. Sam always rolls his eyes when I say that. Most people do.

But Cas spent tons of time with us. He always has, it's not like he just started hanging around us. Even when we weren't hunting, he'd be there, right by my side, right where I _wanted_ him to be.

After he left, I kinda had breakdowns. I'd cry my eyes out most nights, until dawn or until I fell asleep. Whichever happened first. Of course Sam was always there to calm me down, but it didn't help much, I still appreciated his efforts, which counts.

I pray to him every night, I don't let Sam see, it's almost as bad as letting him see me cry. I let him see the first couple nights, but then I picked my pride back up from where it had fallen. I usually just wait till he's asleep, or I go into another room, etc. I pray to him about anything, our hunt, how I wish he would come back soon, even cheeseburgers he should try. But our conversations are always a bit one sided. Sometimes I wonder if he's even listening. Probably not, but I still try.

After a while, Sam said that I started to zone out, and that's when I'd get the flashes of him. I've only gotten four, but still. It's kinda like when Sam got those head aches and demon flashy-things. Can't remember what he called them, premi-something. But sometimes I'd just zone out and think of Castiel.

Kinda like now.

"Dean? Are you even listening to me?" Sam poked my shoulder, breaking me from my mini trance. He was sitting on the hotel bed across from mine.

I blinked twice and stared at him blankly, "What?" I've always had a way with words.

Sam got off of the coarse yellow-and-orange-flower-vomit comforter to stand in front of me. Real close to invading my bubble. "We need to pack up and set off for Bobby's!" He nearly shouted in my face.

"Why thanks for using your indoor voice, Sammy." I commented, plucking my suit case from the bottom of my bed, moving over to the bathroom to get my tooth brush and other necessities.

When we finished packing and loading the Impala, I plopped down in the drivers seat and turned on the radio. Sam had thrown out all of my cassette tapes a while back and I never had the nerve to buy some CDs so I've had to settle with "Rocking Metal .93" for a while.

"Ready for Bobby's?" I asked him, buckling in.

"Sure. There's nothing like sitting around at your friend's dusty cabin for a week and calling it vacation when really it's just a break." He replied, pretending to sound thrilled.

I glared at him, "Can you _try_ to be ok with it? We both know you need the break. On this last hunt you were a little sloven."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, _sloven_! I saved your ass twice lat night and _I'm_ sloven!"

"Whatever..." I mumbled, I've lost. Who cares?

Bobby has agreed to take us in a his little cabin for a vacation from hunting, because we've gone 13 weeks without a days break in between hunts. We deserve at _least_ a week from saving people from their nightmares. Personally, I don't think I need it. But Sam says that if he goes, I go. And there was no way I was letting him go one more hunt without a good night's sleep.

"Hey Dean?" His voice perked up from the other seat.

"Yup?" I asked.

"I'm gonna take a small nap. N'kay?" He already sounded drowsy, laying his head back in between the seat and car wall.

"Alright. I'll wake you up when we arrive." I replied.

He grunted in approval.

It was a good Three hours away, and he got about six hours of sleep last night, so he should be well rested by the time we get there. Which was perfect.

Meanwhile, I'll just drive.

**Woo! Chapter one! I hope that this sounds like Dean... If not, let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Joy of Longing

Have you ever heard of a "schizophrenic"? A person who sees stuff, like mirages and crap? Well Sammy and Bobby think that I'm schizophrenic. And I don't know why, because I'm sure that I saw Cas at Taco Bell, he gave me my nachos. Why Castiel would be at a Taco Bell, I don't know. He looked real nice in that taco hat, though. Real damn fine.

Now that I think about it, maybe I am schizophrenic.

"Do you think you'd be able to rest a while?" Sam asked, tossing an ice pack to me. "You did fall head first onto the counter after you supposedly witnessed our dear friend, Cas. Did you also happen to see Chuck in the restrooms?" Sam smirked, teasing me.

"Oh shut up, Sam!" I took a fake swing at his face, followed by a pinch to his stomach.

But to my demise, he was quicker and slapped me. "Better luck next time, Jerk."

"Bitch," I mumbled, pulling myself away from Sam to retreat to the bedroom. I really doubt that I have a concussion, but I'm still a bit tired from the drive. And like Sam inquired, I could use some Rest.

Sammy and Bobby also said that stress is eating at my nerves, which could be causing these stupid flashes and schizophrenia. I think it's bogus, because I've had a shit load of tress on my shoulders, and my mind didn't cave then, so why now? Not when I had a week of my life left, not when Sammy died, not when my dad died, but when a stupid angel decides to go MIA? My brain _is_ fucked up. Hopefully rest can help. And if it can? Well then fuck it, I need to hibernate.

I sprawl out onto the bed, taking in the smell of the sheets. They smelled of Cas, since he was the last one who slept in it. We went on a hunt, and well Being the clutz that he is, he was wounded by a demon. So we laid him out on the bed, patched him up, and then he was gone. Last time we ever saw the guy, didn't bother to say "goodbye," or "I might not be back for a while," nothing. Just a lame, "thank you, I'm very grateful to have your medical attention," or something along those lines. That was three months ago, but it feels like three _years_. I can still imagine him laying there, gripping the sheets as if his life depended on it, as if he was going to fall right through the sheets. That was the first and only time I could hold his hand, and I miss it. Even if his grip could fracture a brick, it was nice.

It might have been the last time, now that I think about it.

But I don't like to think that, I like to imagine that he's just away on a holy mission, and will be back tomorrow. Or that he was never gone. I'd like that, if he never left. He'd be here, right here. He'd sit on the bed and pet me while I drift off to sleep, like he's done countless times before. And how I _wish_ that he'd be petting me, it helps me sleep, to be honest. It was fun to count how many times he'd stoke my head. On average 374. Sometimes when I would be a bit distressed he'd hum Metallica. It soothed me, to have him there, making me feel, -oh, um-... Warm? Safe? Good? Loved? Yea, loved.

I know it's kind of weird to miss him this much, but I can't help it. He left right when I started to get these little buzzes whenever we would touch, when I started noticing how cute his demeanor was, and that's when I started seeing him in a new light. Not like when you realize that some idiot is a genius, like when I met Ash, nor when this girl in your math class gets her braces off and you realize that she's HOT, like when I started dating this slut, Jamie, i think, in tenth grade. But when you see how utterly _perfect_ someone is. The way they laugh, the way they fidget when they feel nervous or out of place, the way their face contorts in confusion. And then you label it. My label for Castiel? Cute. Wonderful. Lovable. Kind. Irresistible. Handsome. _Perfect_.

Because that's what he is, perfect. There's no one else out there who can even _compare_ to him. He's just that amazing. No one else is as loyal, kind, and understanding as him. And no one is as naïve. I must admit, the guy can't take a hint. But the look he gives you when he doesn't understand something is priceless. Like when a kitten doesn't understand why you stopped playing with it, or when you yell at a puppy. Sometimes I mix it up with a hurt expression, and sometimes it is, but it's mostly sheer confusion. It's just adorable. And I could stare at his cute little face all day long if I could.

Not that I would.

But I can imagine it, his face, and sometimes that helps me fall asleep

And with that, I drifted off to sleep, my thoughts of Castiel lulling me unconscious just like the way It would when he would pet me.

* * *

He stood in the placid room, taking in the light attar, palm breeze, as he recognized from the gas station he recently visited. The room it's self was white. Entirely white. There was a love-seat near the middle, facing a bare coffee table. That is were he decided to place himself, in the vacant love-seat. Might as well, there was no visible exit by what he could tell. But of course, he knew better than to assume such a thing. Once the 30 minutes were up they'd let him leave. It was best to wait until he was contacted. _If_ he were contacted. Sometimes visitors never came. Why they made him do this once a week puzzled him. It was useless, a waste of a half-an-hour.

A tingle was sent down his spine, electrifying his nerves. He ignored this jolt, trying to remain calm. He did not want to come on too strong to the figure that subconsciously loomed behind him. Even if it were just his ignorant relative.

Without turning, he spoke out to the shadow behind him, "What is their current stand on my request?" He asked the distant missionary.

He heard a small titter of annoyance from behind him, "Listen you know I don't fancy all of that hoo-hah. I don't see why you even bother asking anymore." The voice moved from behind the love-seat to accompany him, placing a firm, but affectionate hand on the shoulder of his friend.

Noting the new comfort, he decided it was time to face his dear brother, eyes glossed with melting hope. "I take they persist on ignoring my simple request? If they must restrain me from returning then the least they could do is tell me why!" He whined, dropping his head into his hands in frustration.

Unsure on how to ease his distressed kinsman, the eldest between the two brothers pulled out a crumpled photo out of his near-devoid pocket, not letting the other see it until he had smoothed out the creases. "I'm sure they are fine, we know how strong they are, especially this one!" He commented to his homesick relative, pointing to a familiar face on the parchment, one he himself knew so well, one that he didn't mind looking at. Sometimes he would pluck the picture from his pocket whenever he would feel peckish for this old pal.

Smiling at the photo his brother had retrieved, he recalled how emotionally stable the two inhabitants of the photograph could be. Most of the times they were _not_ very stable. Especially the one his brother did not point to, and he was sure his brother was well aware of this fact. "Do you miss them, too?" He questioned.

Smirking at his younger brother's never-ending curiosity, he did not hesitate to reply. "Well, of course! Not as much as you do, though. I mean, I can always visit them if I want, I just know that it would be a bad idea."

The younger one nodded at this, it was true. If his brother popped in for even the smallest visit, he'd be gunned down by questions and accusations about the whereabouts of his absent accomplice. "Quite true," he took the picture from the elder's hands to examine it thoroughly. He yearned to just see his remote cronies. He sighed in defeat. He'd just have to accept the possibility of never relieving his desires. They sat comfortably in several minutes of silence, both thinking of their friends.

Before they could comprehend it, their time was up.

"Thank you, Gabriel. It was nice of you to speak with me, but it appears that our time has been spent." He glanced over to the clock on the wall, confirming his point.

Gabriel nodded, realizing that it was indeed time to flee back to the garrison and leave his dear brother here. "Take care, Cassie." And with that, he departed.

Castiel leaned against the back of the love-seat, shutting his eyes, picturing the friends he has left behind. Little did he realize that Gabriel had placed the photograph on his once occupied seat, leaving for Castiel to have. After all, Cas needed it more than he did.

Chapter 2! Yay! I'm going to try and update every week, please do not get too upset if I'm a day late. I have a life, ya know.


	3. Chapter 3: Cruising

**Hey guys! I know I said that I'd try to update every week, but that's a bit hard when you break the one thing you can actually make a document on. But I got my computer fixed, Tada! So I apologize in advance if this is a crummy chapter, I tried to get it done quickly so I could post it. And BTW if any of you people watch Merlin, I will be starting a fan fiction w/ the same plotline/problem, and I plan to have the first two chapters of that up soon. Okay bye. :D**

Chapter three: Cruising

_ Get out. Get out of me right now, or so help me!_

"Or what?" The words tumbled out from my lips, "What could you do to hurt me? Can't hurt me without nearly killing yourself, Precious. Unless Sammy gets hopped up on your- or our -blood, which I don't see happening anytime soon."

_ Whenever you decide to decide to pick on someone you own density, I'll kill you then._

"Who says I'm leaving anytime soon?" I leaned back against the sofa, "Its quite comfy in here. Nice and roomy, not like Sam's. I get claustrophobic with all of the logic and sense cluttering up his noggin, and there's not much of that in here." Arms were lifted to support my head against the rough upholstery.

_ Fuck you._

I couldn't help but giggle. Literally.

"What was that?" I shifted and saw Sam in the doorway of the living room, laptop in hand.

_ Sammy? Can he tell?_

"I remembered a joke I heard on the radio." I drummed my fingers on the arm of the couch, smiling up at Sam.

_ Liar_.

"What was it?" Sam asked taking the seat to my left, the uncomfortable wooden chair to my left.

"Where does a general put his armies?" I asked, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees.

"I don't know, training?" Sam rolled his eyes, opening up his laptop.

"No! His _sleevies!"_ I erupted with laughter again.

_ Good one, but that was on the Laffy-Taffy wrapper I had last week._

_ "_Ha-ha." Obviously un-amused, Sam began tippering-away a his mini computer.

We sat a few minutes in silence while Sam dicked-off on who-knows-what website, and I contemplated on ways to stick out. So far, nothing seemed to work. It's a bit hard when you can't move your muscles, not even a slight twitch.

"Hey, Sam?" My foot began tapping, a nervous habit I did not possess.

"What?" Sam asked sharply.

"I got a another flash." I flashed Sam one of my signature innocent-puppy faces.

_ No, I didn't! And I would know!_

Sam sat straighter in his chair, leaning in to look at me closely, his face was spelling CONCERN. "Flash? Of what?" he paused for a moment, "Cas?"

"No. I've had enough that _silly _angel," I watched as Sam's mouth dropped at "my" choice of words. "This time it was about something worth looking into, a hunt." I grinned.

_ You bastard! Castiel is worth everything to me, and if you're in my head, you can see that._

I could tell that Sam was taken aback by the words that spilled from my mouth. And to be honest, I was, too.

_ What's your sick, twisted motive?_

"But Dean-"

I found myself interjecting, "Sam! Listen to me! This is important." Sam withdrew and relaxed back into his chair, signaling for me to continue, "I saw myself - alone - on a hunt. I was battling some demons, and I saved this girl who has information on the lost archangel, Gabriel."

_He's dead though, right?_

I gazed up at Sam to see his reaction. All of us knew that Sam had a soft spot the "dead" archangel, like the of soft-spot-type I supposedly have for Cas. I was not surprised to see his eyes slightly shinier, and an aghast expression on his face. "Dean, that's not funny."

"Oh, but Sammy! I'm not kidding. We know that all of my flashes have been angel related, so it must mean that some piece of it is true." I concentrated on Sam's face, the way his eyes flickered with interest and sprouting tears, the way his mouth resisted to curve into a smile.

_ Not exactly._

"But none of the others have come true." Sam was gently rubbing underneath his eyes, trying to flick away his tears while he unsteadily shut his laptop.

"This one is probable. Castiel is most definitely gone and never coming back, but Gabriel, that's another story. And I've already checked up on it. There are most definitely demonic omens in Billings."

_ How is this Probable?_

This made Sam raise an eyebrow. "Billings? Montana? Are you even sure?" Sam, now completely immersed in our conversation, placed his forgotten computer on the coffee table. He rubbed his temples now, trying to sort the words I was speaking.

"I saw a poster for _Halfbreed Lake National Wildlife Refuge_. I googled it and it happens to be in Billings, where there also appears to be Demonic omens. And Billings isn't too far away, but It could just be a coincidence, though…"

_ Why would YOU care about Demonic omens? _

Sam sighed, "I'm guessing you want us to go and see if-" He took in a sharp intake of breath, "-Gabriel, just so happens to be playing hooky?" Sam threw his head back and covered his whole face with his hands. This was a touchy subject, and one thing I've noticed over the years is that Sam tends to smother himself while covering such matters.

"No." I quickly lurched forward to keep Sam in his seat, as if he might burst out of it along with the rest of his tears.

"Then why are you telling me? You made it seem like you wanted us to go and find out about Gabriel! And Dean, I _want_ to check this out! What if he's okay and we-"

"I want to go alone," I spilled. Sam stopped his ramble, and a lone tear fell from his eye. He stared at me, baffled at my audacity. I knew that Sam had more of a connection for the deceased angel than I, and if I were to rescue him _alone, _Sam would be a bit jealous. Kinda like if he were to go and be Castiel's savior.

I remembered the day he died, how his own stabbed him, how shocked he looked. I remember how Sam was shaken from watching the angel writhe in his last scream. I remember how Gabriel glanced up at him with sheer sorrow and longing. I remember Sam crying Gabriel name repetitively in the shallow, gasping breaths the _he_ could barely take in. I remember the way Sam held Gabriel, silently cursing Lucifer, who had already fled the scene. And I remember Gabriel's last words to my brother, "_I'll wait for you in Heaven, Sasquatch ."_

_ 1.…2.….3.….4.…._

"Excuse me?" He asked, trying to stand, but my hand kept him from popping up.

"I think it would be best if I went alone." I looked away, mentally and physically.

Sam remained silent, breathing heavily. I've hurt him.

_ Is this why people like you don't have friends or close siblings? Because you guys fucking fail at being empathetic._

"Your feelings might get in the way, and I don't want you getting hurt," Dear God, I'm pulling a Sammy. "And in my Flash I was alone, it only seems right. I know you'd do the same thing for me if it came to Cas…"

_ Stop it._

Sam began to cry a little harder.

"Goddammit I've broken him." I said, pulling him in for a hug.

Sam laughed at this, and returned the hug. "I- I guess you're right." he sputtered. "I would probably tell you that."

"Yea, yea you would." I patted him on the back, releasing him from our brotherly embrace.

"But you know what?" he asked, "You'd still go, wouldn't you? Even after I tell you not to."

"Sam-"

"And that's exactly what I'm going to do." Sam leapt up before I could grab him and dashed to his room.

_ He's clever. More than you'd know, anyway._

"Sammy? What are you doing?" I got up and ran after him.

"Packing." He answered as I stepped into the doorway, he was frantically packing his stuff.

"Sammy-"

"We leave first thing." He said, wiping away more tears as he closed the door in my face.

_ What now, oh wise one?_

I trotted into my own room, and started packing my own bag.

_ You aren't seriously letting my brother come with us, are you?_

_ "_So many questions." I whispered. "And no. the plan is to keep you alone, my dear."

_ And what plan is that?_

"Oh, wouldn't you love to know?" I laughed as I shoved some socks into my duffle bag.

_ But what are we going to do about Sam?_

I swung around to my nightstand, crouching down to grab a fallen map off of the carpet. "We'll just leave without him."

_ He knows where we're going._

_ "_Actually, he has no clue." I placed the map in the front zipper pocket, making sure it was safe.

_ We aren't even going to Montana, are we?_

_ "_Nope." I rushed out into the hallway, seeking out the bathroom.

_ And so I'm also going to guess that we aren't looking for a girl who knows about Gabriel?_

_ "_Why waste time on something like that? Everyone knows He's hiding in the Bahamas." I rolled my eyes as entered the restroom.

_ Huh. The bastard lives._

_ "_Amen!" I laughed at my own pun, grabbing my tooth paste and other toiletries.

_ So where are we going?_

"That, my friend, is confidential information." I nearly slipped on a puddle on the floor while exiting the bathroom.

_ Then why are you doing this to me? What am I doing? Can't you people just learn to get hobbies? I here Paris is nice this time of year! You could terrorize someone there!_

"Nah, I've got orders to follow." I slipped back into my room, successfully conquering the challenging task of retrieving a tooth brush.

_ Damn you. _

_ "_Oh Dean, I love it when you get frisky," I tucked in a couple shirts in the bigger pocket of my bag.

_ I think we're good._

"Oh but sweetheart, we haven't even gotten there yet." I chimed, drumming my fingers along to _Dance With he Devil._

_ Can you at least listen to something decent? This is a bit much for me._

_ "_You know, Breaking Benjamin is classified as rock, too. Just like Metallcia."

_ It's Metallica. _

"Whatever, it's still good. And we'll be there soon, only about seven minutes left." I turned down a dirt road somewhere in a quaint country town.

_ Thank god. We're in Ohio, right?_

"Yup. Johnstown Ohio. My old vessel was from here, oddly enough." We passed a cute Amish bakery.

_ Why are you telling me where we are? What if I decide to take off once you get out of me?_

"Well, you could, but you won't want to."

_ And why wouldn't I?_

"You'll see. It's surprise." _Forget It_ by Breaking Benjamin came on the radio.

_ Can you at least tell me what I'll be doing while I'm here?_

_ "_You're going to get rid of some overpopulation." We passed a ratty car repair shop, and I wasn't surprised to see a big **FORCLOSURE **sign hanging on the broken window.

_ Overpopulation of what? Hillbillies? _

I chuckled, "Nope, but they do have a lot of those. Three vamps, two werewolves, a windigo, four skin walkers, three shape-shifters, and a gang of rebellious demons."

_ Rebellious Demons? Why cant you guys deal with that yourselves?_

"We could, but we don't have the time and concern. And isn't that a hunter's purpose? To kill evil?" I came to a stop at red light.

_ This is going to take fucking forever._

"Not my problem, Sweetie." Now we were parked in front of an old motel, _The Red Roof Inn._ Dirt littered the parking lot, along with suspicious white powders by the pop machines.

_ Home, sweet home._

"For now, yes." I unbuckled and heaved myself out the Impala, tugging out my phone. "I'm sorry, but no phones allowed." I chucked my phone at a nearby dumpster, it clanked and clashed behind the trash.

_ What are we going to do now you've wasted a good fifty bucks?_

"Well you are going to be a good boy and check yourself in, watch a Hallmark movie, and wait." I pulled out a credit card from the glove compartment in the car. _Benjamin Burnley._

_ What will you do? Watch me?_

"Nope. I'll be back later for the details of your hunt, don't miss me too much, okay?"

I was a bit confused until I felt myself lurch as smoke burned and clawed the length of my throat, fighting its way out of me. Puffs of the sulfuric smoke burned my eyes and I tear-ed up. I gasped for air as the last of it exited my mouth, and I watched in relief as it disappeared underneath my car.

"That won't be an issue," I said stretching my arms and bending my knees. God did that feel wondrous, controlling my own body at will.

I turned to the hotel, taking in it's poor décor. "I wonder if _The Gift _is on…"


	4. Chapter 4: Sins of Desire

The sandy beaches of the Atlantis resort remained still and quiet, perpetual waves crashing into the undisturbed bays. Forgotten towels and buckets blanketed the shores along with the rest of abandoned belongings of the missing island-goers, whom had left in a rush. All but one person fled the unstable island in fret, and that one person, wasn't a person at all. Sure he looked, walked, and talked like one, but physically he was not the slightest bit of one. But mentally, that was another story. Although he is different from this reckless kind, he tends to think along with them, even with his superior knowledge. He can't help this contagious disease that they inflict, which he has caught. Desires. Even the word sounded smooth and spiteful. Just like me, he thought.

He had been on this Earth for a long time, not beginning-of-life long, but long enough to really observe. His brethren are quick to believe that he has left them to indulge in some of human sin- although he has enjoyed some -it is not the main reason he left. He wanted to observe his father's creations. He wanted to learn from them, and for the millennia he has, he has realized how biased his family has become. How impure they truly are. He was too disgusted with himself and family, the image they had imprinted on these beings was all a lie. They were selfish and brooding, everything the angels were not entitled to.

So he stays in the comfort of these confused apes, blending in with their derailed society. Some of these people had managed to make him feel like there was still some hope left, but he's ruined his chances to maintain it. Those few people were the people that mattered; the people he had failed. The subject had become so sensitive that he barely functioned for the first year he was stuck with his failure, which lead to why he was here. He was here because he didn't grasp how to live knowing that the ones he had hurt did not acknowledge that he was still here.

_Should I come out and announce myself? _

_Nah, they wouldn't believe you. _

_What if they did?_

_They'd hate you. _

_Why? Wouldn't they be happy?_

_You abandoned them. _

_Can't they understand?_

_No. If they know you well, then surely they'll not trust you again. _

The creature sighed, losing his mental battle. He knew those hunters well, for he had observed from a distance. Luckily neither of the men had noticed him.

But he refrained from doing that now, it wasn't right. Just likes his plan, crooked and bent. But his brother was coming out of his Bastille soon, and he'd show them his worth. He and his brother had been put down too many times by those men, he found it cruel. Yet he could not resist; they were his favorite sin. The Winchesters.

But of course he favored one over the other, how could he not? He was simply attracted to taller men. Yes, attracted to men. Two sins he loved; attraction and men. The same as desire. Which, in this case, was strong. He desired the young Winchester, as much as his younger brother pined for the older, although he was too naive to note his desires.

But the being would be damned if he just sat at the sidelines. This has gone on too long.

He'd let the demon carry on with his set mission, as planned.

Sam Winchester fell out of his bed, waking him in the process. He grunted as his face slammed into the side of the small bedside table.

"Fuck!"

Blood gushed from his nose, drenching his shirt and sheets as hew scrambled to his feet. Sam glanced the window, noting that the sun was rising. That meant that hew might as well stay up after stopping his nose. But didn't his window face west?

He decided that it didn't matter, and wobbled his way to the hallway. *Not* to his surprise, Dean was still inside of his room, door shut. Sam assumed that he was still sleeping. He'd wake him up later.

Once in the bathroom, he got a good look at his spewing nose, still going strong, although it didn't look broken.

A good sign, so far.

He bent over to grab a tissue, and found that there wasn't one there. Nor toilet paper. Groaning, Sam shuffled to the kitchen, pinching his bridge while landing back. He probably looked like an idiot. He'd have to use paper towels, which wouldn't feel the kindest.

As he stumbled in, he grabbed a few towels and applied them to his nose. This was stupid. Why'd he fall out of the bed anyway?

Without realizing it, his eyes wandered to the clock.

T:AB 92

His eyes adjusted to the blurred numbers and letters.

7:A6 9M

_Getting better_.

7:46 PM

_Wait, what? _

PM

** A/N:**

**I'm SOOOOOOOO sorry for the long wait for theupdate! I had the Merlin story chapters 1-3 done and ready to post, I had chapters 4-6 done with this, but then I got IOS 7. I deleted everything on my IPad, which I had decided to transfer my stuff to. Yay! I had to rewrite EVERYTHING. I'm still not done with the Merlin one, though. But I ****_have_**** started working on the prologue of a high school AU for Supernatural. It'll be a while until i finish that though. UGH. TECHNOLOGY. **


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